


Little Orange Pills

by Luna_Leclair (Moonluster)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Flash Nonfiction Essay, Medical, Medication, Memoir, Nonfiction, flash memoir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:48:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonluster/pseuds/Luna_Leclair
Summary: A flash nonfiction essay in which I talk about taking medication.





	Little Orange Pills

The first time I took medication, I was 7 or 8. Little orange pills. They didn’t taste like anything. Take one a day. “The light’s back in her eyes,” my mother said. By that, did you mean I’m “normal” again? Was I ever “normal”?  
  
The second time I took medication, I was 11 or 12. Two for night, three for day. Makes it so I won’t break down in my 5th-grade class. ...the other kids think I’m weird as it is. I told a joke once that a boy didn’t laugh at, and I won’t forget it. 

The third time I took medication, I was 15. The diagnosis? Anxiety. The car caused it. My mother pointed out a police officer on the side of the road, and I slammed on the brakes in the middle of the intersection. She yelled, “what’s wrong with you?!”

It’s frightening to realize you’ve been relying on pills for as long as you’ve done multiplication, and that your mind will unravel without the capsules and hard tablets of miracles. I’m unmedicated now (stopped taking my prescribed anti-anxiety medication 3 months ago), and every other day is Russian roulette--will I be fine? Or will I have yet another breakdown over something insignificant?   
I desperately crave the relief and tranquility the pills give me. Coping mechanisms and deep brain therapy aren’t always enough. 

I remember the argument against and stigma around taking medication:   
“They’ll get addicted.”   
“You won’t be yourself.”  
  
First, if I’m addicted to being well, then yeah, I’m addicted. Let me ask you; are you addicted to sunsets? “No,” but it’s sure nice to see one, right? That’s what it means to me. I can see sunsets without thinking the sun hates me.   
Second, _I don’t know who I am_ , with or without the medication, so I might as well feel happy and stable, even if I don’t have a solid identity, right?   
Is it so wrong to be well?

The people pushing that awful narrative had better feel lucky they may never need to take the little orange pills to “bring the light back” to their eyes. 

To prevent a 5th-grader’s breakdown.

To stop a car crash.   
  
To be “normal”.

I’m envious of and angry at the ignorance, yet I would never wish the same hell on them. No one deserves to live like this; not even the worst person I can imagine.


End file.
